


little black dress (or what's left of it anyway)

by jazziisms



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Oneshot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 22:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazziisms/pseuds/jazziisms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>she should not be surprised by his initiating of it though. after all, it is her fault for teasing him all night during the christmas dinner with the gang. she never wears dresses. like ever. let alone tight, body hugging ones that left little to the imagination. when your best friend is historia reiss, however, you kinda had no choice in the matter. </p><p>his face when he saw her was worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little black dress (or what's left of it anyway)

**Author's Note:**

> I was sent a smutty prompt starter and, whelp. This happened.

"You like it when I do this, admit it. You like it when I pull your hair and pin you down, you like when I take control over you."

The brunette’s response is a strangled moan, lips parted as she gasps into the soft surface of the sheets. There’s a retort ready to escape those burgundy lips, but they somehow cannot through her pants and grunts and moans of pleasure. She has a billion witty, smartass things she can say to him right now, but in the position she’s in at the moment refrains her from doing so.

_ Literally. _

She’s on her stomach. Sort of, at least. Her breasts are pressed flat against the mattress and her head is turned to one side so she can breathe, but she’s also on her knees with her ass up in the air, being pounded into this specimen she calls her boyfriend. Kind of an ass, really, but then again she is worse and they both had feelings for the same person for a long time.

But now he’s hers, and she’s his, and he’s taking her just the way he wants tonight. The dirty talk is nothing new. It sends chills down her spine and makes her toes curl and her back arch and turns her into a vulnerable, lusty, and desperate _mess._ She should not be surprised by his initiating of it though. After all, it _is_ her fault for teasing him all night during the Christmas dinner with the gang. She never wears dresses. Like _ever_. Let alone _tight, body hugging_ ones that left little to the imagination. When your best friend is _Historia Reiss_ , however, you _kinda_ had no choice in the matter. 

His face when he saw her was _worth it._

That dress didn’t last on her much longer after they got back home to their apartment, because as soon as Ymir closed the door and locked it, she was thrown against it and Reiner was pushing that skimpy thing up as high as it could go, his hands going in places that she used to would have never let a _man_ touch. He’s the first and _only_ exception. When he got impatient, he meant business. And she liked that. She _liked_ that his hands were big and powerful, yet can be soft and gentle at the same time. She _liked_ that he fought for dominance as much as she did. She _liked_ that he’d dig his fingers into the small of her back and groan into her skin when she pulls his ear through her teeth. She _liked_ that he’d trace her freckles and try to count each and every one on her toned, athletic body. She _liked_ that he’d bite his lip when he’s turned on, or when she leaves hickies on his massive chest, or when she takes him in her mouth and have him beg her to let him explode, or when she’s riding him _so fast_ and _hard_ the bed starts to shake and he’s _legitimately moaning_ \--

_“Fuck,”_ Ymir groans, eyes shut tight. The sounds of their bodies slapping against each other, the slippery and smooth and thick sensation of him continuously pounding into her wet heat, and the way he’s grabbing her ass is too, _too much,_ yet it’s _not enough_. She’s hot from the friction of her against the bed, as well as his body heat, and she’s sweating in seconds. Reiner suddenly slows down, pulling himself almost all the way out of her, but before she can question him or curse at him for his stopping, his tongue leaves a long trail of _fire_ up her spine and she hisses through her teeth, arching into his mouth. Reiner’s lips reach her ear and he sucks on the shell while his hands smooth up her arms to lace his fingers through hers and he grips. Begins thrusting again. It’s slower. Sensual, like the calming waves of the ocean. She loses herself in it, smiling softly when he peppers her face and head and shoulders with kisses.

Until he speeds it up. Until he gets _rougher_ , pushing the long curls aside so he can suckle and bite on her neck, ravishing her until her skin turns red, and she encourages him with her mewls and pleas. _Yes, yes, yes. Just like that. Don’t stop. You like it when her heat clenches and wraps around you like a glove? Bet you do. You’ve been wanting it all night and now you’re getting exactly what you want. Aren’t you lucky?_

_Dear god_ , she’s fucking _sobbing_ like some blonde bombshell in a bad porno. But she’s close. She’s on her side now and he’s holding one of her legs up, thick digits digging into her thighs to hold her steady. Wetting her fingers with her tongue, she goes down south and begins rubbing her clit desperately, going in time with his thrusts. He knows this, knows her body more than his own, knows that her coming undone will ultimately be _his_ undoing, and latches his lips onto her throat, lips and teeth and tongue. Reaches up to grab at her right breast, smoothing his thumb over the brown, perky nipple, and kneads the soft mound in the way he knows she loves.

_ And that. _

_ fucking. _

_ does it. _

Ymir releases a long and loud whine as she falls over the edge, reaching back to grab and pull at the hair on the back of his head; and from the way Reiner is groaning and shuddering against her, she knows he’s coming too. He ruts into her sloppily as he finishes and he grows limp with exhaustion, pressing another sloppy kiss to her shoulder. She grins and shifts in his embrace until they’re facing each other, closing the distance between their faces to shape her lips around his. She can still taste herself on his lips, and she dips her tongue inside to taste more.

_“Mmm,”_ Reiner purrs in approval, squeezing her ass and stroking her tongue with his. “Sorry about your dress,” he adds after pulling away.

They both look over to see the - technically, what was _left_ of the - dress on the floor, as well as their clothes carelessly thrown all over the place during their blind journey up the stairs. She’s _pretty sure_ her panties landed on the lamp or some shit.

“‘S fine.”

“I liked it.”

“Me too.”

“I’m not sayin’ you should wear stuff like that more often, but...I’m totally not against it.” He flashes her a sly grin, followed by a suggestive eye wiggle.

The very thought of torturing him and turning him into a wild man of desire makes Ymir’s lips curve into her signature smirk. _“Oh really…”_

Heh...She’s _definitely_ gonna have to call Historia after this.


End file.
